Lost
by AmySPNfic
Summary: Dean doesn't go to Stanford to ask for Sam's help, instead heading to Jericho alone to search for John. Sam unexpectedly receives a vision of Dean in trouble and sets off to find his big brother. S1 AU, rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

August 2003 - Ohio

Dean Winchester is tired. Standing outside, resting his head on the door of yet another run down motel room, he listens to his father and brother having an all out 'who-cares-what-the-neighbours-think' screaming match. Building his resolve to go into the room and try to defuse the situation is taking more effort than he cares to admit. He hates taking sides between his dad and brother, as ultimately he is the one that comes out the loser. By either angering John or disappointing Sam, Dean can't help thinking that sometimes it sucks to be him.

The bottom line; Sammy is leaving. He'd been accepted into Stanford and this is the ticket out that Dean knows that Sam has been praying for. It's killing him to think the Sam will soon be gone; he's spent most of his life caring for the kid and now for the first time Dean is left with the very real prospect of life without his brother.

Whilst he doesn't understand Sam's desire for an apple pie life, he respects that it is Sam's choice to make. Something John Winchester just can't grasp. Ever since their mother was murdered they'd been raised as soldiers, preparing for the final showdown with the demon that killed her, but as Sam can't even remember their mom he doesn't feel the same need for vengeance that John and Dean feel.

The voices in the room continued to rise and gritting his teeth Dean, pushes open the door and enters the fray.

_October 2005- New Orleans_

_God damn it_, Dean thinks to himself. Staring at his cell phone, he's yet again playing another round of the '_Should I call Sammy_?' game. So far he'd resisted, knowing that has much as it hurt, Sam was living a better life without him. Not just better, safer as well. Dean misses his brother fiercely and can't decide whether hearing Sammy's voice would make him feel better or worse.

Growling to himself, he angrily stands and moves away from the phone. Why is this so frigging difficult to decide – call him or don't call him, make a choice and get on with it. Dragging a hand through his hair he asks himself for what feels like the hundredth time – _Where the hell is Dad?_

Grabbing the phone off his unmade bed, Dean angrily punches the number for John's other, other cell. After a few rings the call gets diverted to that all too familiar voice message, instructing the caller to ring Dean. How the hell is that supposed to help him!

Stalking around the unkempt motel room Dean finally makes a decision. Sam is better where he is, and Dad is probably just knee-deep in a hunt. He knows the last place John was headed and quickly grabbing his belongings, makes the choice to follow his Dad.

Once he's checked out of the motel Dean dumps his crap in the back of the Impala and roars out of the parking lot. Next stop Jericho.

_October 2005 - Stanford University, California_

Sitting in a dark and crowded bar Sam Winchester feels good. When he'd first arrived at Stanford two years ago, he couldn't walk into a bar without feeling utterly depressed. Every time someone raised their voice or he heard laughter, Sam had half expected to turn around and see Dean leaning over the pool table, face deep in concentration hustling some poor sap of their hard earned cash.

Now sitting here, surrounded by friends and sitting next to the most amazing woman he's ever met. It strikes him often how lucky he is to have met Jess; she's patient, intelligent, beautiful and by some miracle, his.

It had taken a long time but he's finally happy with his new life. He's doing well in his classes, has a great circle of friends and is in love. Still, he misses his brother every day, always worrying if Dean is alright. Too many times to count Sam had dialled Dean's number and then chickened out, convincing himself that Dean is fine and that hearing his voice would just send him straight back to how he felt in the beginning.

Even now, with his friends speaking enthusiastically around him, his thoughts linger with Dean; what is he doing, is he on a hunt, and is he happy? Grumbling to himself internally, Sam tries to tear his thoughts away from his older brother.

Looking over at Jess, he realised she is looking back at him with a troubled frown. _Damn_, _How long have I been spaced out?_

"Are you okay?" Jess asks quietly, concern evident in her tone.

Just as Sam is about to reply that's he's fine, the most intense pain he's ever felt in his life stops him in his tracks. His head feels like it's about to explode and he can feel his body sliding back off the bar stall, but he can't do anything to stop his fall.

Images flash through his mind; Dean standing on a bridge looking at a woman in the distance. Dean driving down a dark highway with the same woman in the passenger seat. Then finally the woman attacking Dean, revealing herself to be a ghost and shoving her fingers deep into his chest, whilst he screams out in agony.

Sam can barely breathe as the images start to recede, but the panic and fear reverberating around his body only intensifies. Jess is standing over him frantically repeating his name and his friends have formed a semi-circle around where he's fallen, but Sam doesn't notice.

Only one thought is repeating itself over and over again; Dean is in serious trouble.

Author's Note - Ok so this is the first fan-fiction I have ever written, so please - if anyone out there reads this, reviews would be appreciated


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note - Just want to say a massive thanks to all the kind people who have left me reviews. Really hoping this next chapter doesn't disappoint. I've got a lot planned for this story so I hope you'll stick with me. I don't have a Beta reader, so apologies for any errors. Hope you enjoy and reviews are appreciated.

_7 Miles from Jericho, California_

Dean rubs at his tired eyes, he's been driving too long but anxiety stops him from finding a motel on the way. Seeing a passing sign he's relieved that there's less than ten miles to his destination, already looking forward to a few hours rest. Rolling down the window of his beloved car, he hopes the cold air will give him an extra boost of energy.

Three weeks ago, Dean and John had come across a case of guys going missing along a small stretch of highway. After enough evidence had piled up, confirming their suspicions that something supernatural was happening John had set off to do some digging.

Not long after Dean made the decision to follow John to Jericho, his father had unexpectedly left him a voicemail. After pulling into a rest stop he'd played the message back. John hadn't exactly been reassuring, in fact it had been the opposite; informing Dean to be on his guard and they were in danger. Whilst already worried about the fact he hadn't spoken to his dad in three weeks, what had Dean putting his foot all the way down on the gas pedal was the ethereal voice that he'd discovered faintly in the background of the call.  
The poor, crackling quality to the call immediately has Dean thinking of EVP, so after cleaning up the static, he'd played the message again. This time he could clearly hear the voice of a woman "_I can never go home_"

Dean's sure his father can handle a ghost, but the faster he gets to Jericho, the better. He'd already called around the local hospitals and thankfully no-one matching his dad's description had been admitted.

The miles pass rapidly and before long he's entering the town limits. Unfortunately it seems like sleep is going to have to wait. Up ahead he spots couple of cop cruisers and officers milling around. After pulling over, Dean reaches into the glove compartment and pulls out a small box, rifling through his collection of fake I.D's he settles on the Federal Marshal badge.

Climbing out, he ambles closer to the scene and listens in on the conversation. Apparently a local kid had gone missing. Following the exchange between the two deputies, Dean takes note of the name of the missing guy's girlfriend - he'd probably need to speak to her later.

Deciding to try and get more details from the cops he moves closer. After flashing his badge and a brief conversation with the two deputies, Dean finds out the cops are grasping at straws. They can't provide much more than he already knows.

Heading back to the Impala, Dean passes two Feds and the Sheriff.

"Can I help you, Son?" the Sheriff asks. Dean just smiles, shakes his head and moves away. If Dad or Sam had been there he might've made a smart alec comment but his heart just isn't in it.

Thinking about Sam hurts._ Maybe I should've just called him_, Dean thinks to himself. Sighing, he gets back in the Impala. Dad being missing wasn't something entirely new to Dean but he can't help but feel he might be handling the whole situation better with Sam helping him out.

_Jericho, California_

Sam angles his crappy rental car into a vacant parking bay adjacent to the reception of Jericho's only motel.

It's been over two days since his…episode… in the bar and he still hadn't been able to contact Dad or Dean. Whilst he always had regrets not keeping in touch with Dean for the past two years, now is the first time he wishes he'd bothered to call Dad as well. Two years is plenty of time for them to have changed their cell numbers more than once. Only one of the numbers Sam had listed was still in service, but every time he rang he only got put through to voice mail of his Dad reciting a phone number and instructing him to call Dean. His brother had usually been good with taking care of his cell but Dean hadn't answered once, despite Sam trying every few hours.

Pulling his long frame from the car, he breathes a sigh of relief. Being in such a rush to get to Dean he hadn't had an awful lot of choice at the car rental place, and had ended up having to take a small junker that Dean would've vehemently refused to be seen in.

Stretching his aching limbs, Sam moves towards the reception to check in. Knowing that there aren't many other options for travellers to stay in this town, he's carrying a photo of Dean.

"One room, please" Sam say's to the tired looking clerk.

"Sure, that cash or card?" he replies

"Cash. I don't suppose you've seen this man in the last few days have you?" Sam asks, holding up Dean's photo.

"Yeah, I've seen him; thought he might've been in town for a reunion. Strange surnames tend to stick out, he and another guy both checked in recently"

Sam's head shoots up at this statement _So Dad and Dean are in town_

"Are they still here?" he manages to choke out.

"Well the first guy, the older one, he booked the room for a month but I haven't seen him in about a week. The younger guy, he also booked a room and I saw him a day or two ago" the clerk answers.

"Can you possibly tell me the room numbers?" Sam asks with his politest smile.

"Sure, let me get those for you" the guy responds.

Standing outside the second of the two rooms his Dad and brother had booked, Sam feels anxious.

The first room was a bust, after checking he wasn't being watched he picked the lock and had gone into the room. Whilst it was clear that Dean had been there, _when was the guy going to stop drying his socks in the sink, _he wasn't there now. Sam already expected to find the room empty as the Impala wasn't parked outside.

Door number two then, again picking the lock he moves into the room, closing the door behind him. Whilst the dank, musty smell is the first thing that assaults his senses, it's the walls of the room that bring him up short.

Every flat surface is covered in research. _So there's definitely a case, _Sam thinks, stepping closer to the nearest wall. He starts scanning through each page, noticing that a lot of the pages are missing posters for local men. Finally something catches his eye and causes him to gasp. On a newspaper clipping from the Jericho Herald there's a picture of the woman he saw in his vision, and stuck to the article is a post-it note, on which "Woman in White" is messily scrawled in his dads handwriting.

"You dogs" Sam mutters under his breath, again looking at the faces staring back at him from the posters.

Grabbing the clipping from the wall, Sam reviews the article stopping when he reads 'Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge at mile 33 of Centennial Highway'

Sam stumbles back towards the bed, sitting he rakes his fingers through his hair. _Sylvania Bridge._ His thoughts flashing back to the vision of Dean, standing on a bridge, with the same woman from the article. _Visions_, he sighs to himself, as if he wasn't enough of a freak before. When he finds Dean how the hell is he going to explain that, he can't even explain it himself. His head still aches from the vivid images that forced themselves into his mind.

_Stanford University, California - Two Days Earlier_

Blinking up at the bright lights, Sam finally manages to reclaim some control over his body. After the vision receded, the first thing he noticed was Jess's panicked expression. He wants to tell her that he's okay, but battling the torrent of emotions circling his body, instead has him gasping for air. Long moments pass before he finally climbs shakily to his feet.

Brushing past the worried questions from his friends, with a muttered apology, he leads Jess outside. Sam's heart drops as he says four words he had never thought he would be saying to her.

"I have to leave" he says hurriedly. Already walking in the direction of their apartment.

"What? What do you mean leave? You just collapsed in there, where could you have to go right now, other than the hospital?" She asks surprised, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

He's walking so fast that she's practically running to keep up with his long strides.

"Jess, I'm really sorry but I can't explain this right now, I am begging you to trust me" Sam pleads "I have to go, I know you're not going to understand this, but my brother needs me"

"Just stop for a second. What do you mean your brother needs you?" she questions.

Sam can see from her expression that she's wondering if perhaps he hit his head inside. Stopping, he grabs her hands and finally looks her in the eye.

Whilst she might not understand, Sam can tell that she's not going to fight his decision. With the panic he's feeling, he's not surprised that Jess picked up on it straight away. She could always read him like a book.

"Okay, you need to go; but what about your interview?" She asks, referring to his upcoming law school interview.

"I'll only be gone a few days, I'll make the interview" Sam's reply is instant, having already thought about this.

Sam sees her look at his face, open her mouth to ask another question but she doesn't._ I don't deserve her, _he thinks to himself, not for the first time.

Upon reaching their apartment, Sam grabs his duffel and starts stuffing clothes in to last a couple of days. Jess stands aside, looking at him with worry.

Residual flashes from the vision, race through his mind. Searching through the images, one in particular stands out. _Dean on the dark road with his mysterious female passenger, looking ahead through the windshield there is a passing sign, 'Centennial Highway, Jericho'._

Moving to his desk, he swipes papers out of the way till he finds his map book. Searching the pages he finds Jericho with ease, and breathes a sigh of relief, somehow finding the fact that it's real town reassuring rather than frightening.

Adding the book to his duffle, Sam apologies one more time to Jess, with a quick kiss and a promise to call her as soon as he can, he's out the door.

_Jericho, California_

With some effort Sam drags his thoughts away from Jess, standing he folds the newspaper article and slides it into his pocket. With one more cursory glance around the room, Sam leaves to grab his own belongings from the car.

Once he'd placed his clothes in his room and locked the door, Sam talks with the motel clerk and gets directions for Sylvania Bridge. Climbing back into the car, he pulls from the parking lot and drives towards the bridge.

From what the clerk had said Dad had obviously arrived in town before Dean, but Sam couldn't figure out why. Before he'd left for Stanford they'd always gone on hunts together. He supposed that Dean could be running his own hunts now, he was 26 after all, but that still didn't explain why they were both in town now, or why he couldn't reach either of them.

It didn't take long to reach his destination, and once the car was parked Sam walked onto the bridge. He had to stop and take a deep breath; this was definitely the place in his vision. It was different seeing it in the daylight, but there was no mistaking that this was the same bridge.

No sign of Dean now though, only one Deputy winding up some yellow tape. Kicking himself for not bringing any fake I.D, Sam heads towards the man, knowing that this isn't going to go as smoothly as it would if he could flash a badge.

"Excuse me" Sam says "Have you seen this man" Showing the Deputy the picture he had of Dean.

"Yeah, I saw him two days ago. Are you another Marshal?" He replies eyeing Sam suspiciously. Obviously not buying this, considering Sam is wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

"Uh, no sir. He's my brother. He was in town on assignment, but our father has fallen ill and I haven't been able to reach him"

"Sorry to hear that, son, but I haven't seen him since"

"Okay, thanks for your time. By the way, did something happen here" Sam asks gesturing to the yellow tape.

"We've had some locals go missing, but that isn't anything for you to worry about" he replies, effectively ending the conversation.

Sam thanks the deputy again before heading back to the car. _Now what_, he thinks to himself. Pulling the newspaper clipping from his pocket, Sam scans the article again. Looking at a picture lower on the page, he notices that it's a photo of Joseph Welch, the husband of Constance.

Sure that Dean would've spoken with the man, Sam decides to venture out and see if this Joseph can add any more details to his investigation, really hoping that this next step will be the one that leads him to Dean. _Before it's too late, _he thinks before he can help it.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N – Just a short chapter again this time. Kind of apprehensive about where my brain is taking this story. It's going to get dark around here for a while, but I have every intention of a happy ending.

I don't have a Beta so any mistakes are all down to me, hoping there aren't too many.

Anyways – Hope you enjoy and review if the inclination strikes, Thanks.

* * *

_Welch Residence, Jericho_

"How many goddamned people does it take to write a story these days" Joseph Welch angrily spits at Sam.

Apparently both Dad and Dean had followed the same line of evidence as Sam, leading them to Mr Welch, who was clearly not pleased at the third Winchester arriving at his door.

"I'm sorry Sir, there must've been a mistake with our assignments, I didn't mean to cause you any trouble" Sam replies trying to calm the irate man.

"I already told your colleagues everything I can about that night, what more do you want from me. As if dragging up the worst time in my life wasn't bad enough, you know the second guy who showed up actually had the nerve to ask me whether I'd been unfaithful to my poor Constance. I may not have been the best husband, but I loved my wife" he ends his speech, shaking with anger and tears in his eyes. "Now get the hell off my property, before I call the damned police"

Sam apologises again, but Mr Welch is done talking and stalks away. Walking back to the car Sam can't help but feel some small measure of relief, Dean had been here recently.

If Dean had been here, then he'd definitely seen the same article as Sam about Constance Welch, meaning that he'd most likely also gone to their old address on Breckenridge Road.

Driving back into town Sam decides that he needs some provisions before going out to Breckenridge. Once back at the motel he again enters his Dads room, hoping that he'll find what he needs. Stepping out of the room fifteen minutes later, Sam is thanking his lucky stars. Not only did he find a sawed off shot-gun nestled under the bed, but he also found a large supply of rock salt rounds.

Once the items are safely stashed away in the trunk, Sam is soon heading down Centennial Highway. With the sun setting behind him, he pushes his foot all the way down, praying that he arrives in time to stop anything happening to his big brother.

* * *

_Breckenridge Road, Jericho_

Turning his car onto the long drive leading to the old Welch house, Sam immediately spots the Impala parked outside the rundown property.

Slamming the brakes, Sam is out of the car in an instant, quickly grabbing the shotgun from the trunk he walks towards his brother's car. What he sees next makes his blood run cold. Even though the sun has set by the time he arrives, the rental car's headlamps flood light over the scene. The windshield of the Impala has been smashed, there's a bloody handprint on the driver side window and most worryingly there is no sign of Dean. His brother is going to be supremely pissed when this is all over; no one hurts the Impala without invoking Dean's wrath.

"Dean" Sam calls out, not caring to keep his voice low.

"Dean, are you here?" He shouts this time, barely concealing the panic he feels. Striding around the Impala, he starts walking quickly towards the house. Just as he is about to try and enter the boarded up property, he sees something moving from the corner of his eye.

Constance Welch is standing on the porch, staring at him. Quickly aiming the shotgun at the woman, Sam fires off one salt round. She vanishes before he can send another her way.

"DEAN" Sam screams again, the terror and dread from his visions resurfacing.

Spinning back towards the house, Sam is about to ram his way through the boarded up door but before he can land his first blow, he's sailing backwards through the air. Landing in a painful heap, Sam immediately tries to stand, but stops abruptly when he realises Constance is standing over him.

"I can never go home" She says, pain evident in her voice and expression. Long brown hair hangs down to her waist and the white dress she is wearing is covered in dirt.

Realising the shot-gun has landed further than he can reach, Sam is about to roll away when she leans forward and slams her fingers into his chest.

The pain is worse than anything he could've imagined, her ice cold fingers burning and freezing him all at once. Crying out in pain, Sam makes one more effort to reach the gun but he can no longer see it in his field of vision. Just as feels he's like he's lost his battle with consciousness, he hears a loud blast and Constance disappears from above him.

"Get away from my brother, you bitch" Sam hears from a very familiar voice.

"Dean" Sam manages to cough out, angling his head to see his older brother.

"Hey Sammy, glad to see your choice in women hasn't changed" Dean replies with a cocky smile.

He looks just as Sam remembers him, slightly paler perhaps but still just the same confident, arrogant big brother he loves. Standing with a grimace, _Man, that really hurt, _Sam starts walking towards his brother, who's standing by the corner of the house.

"Hold up a second there, Sammy. Hang back for a moment" Dean says, holding up his hands, his smile turning strained.

Slowing his pace, uncertainty spreads through Sam's mind. Dean might not ever instigate what he perceived as girly moments, but he'd never stopped Sam from giving him a hug. Something was really wrong. Since hearing his brother's voice, a calm had spread through him, and seeing Dean standing a small distance away from him he'd been sure that he'd arrived before anything terrible had happened to Dean. Now he wasn't so sure.

"I need to tell you something, Sammy. Something you're going to have trouble hearing" his older brother states, palms still turned towards Sam.

"Please Sam, just stop for a minute" Dean pleads.

But Sam continues towards his brother, confusion lacing his thoughts. Looking Dean in the face, his older brothers expression is suddenly painfully sad and even a little scared, _What could possibly..._, he starts to think, but then he knows. Falling to his knees, gasping for breath, Sam feels like a thousand swords have just been pushed through his body. His mind goes blank and with no effort to stop his fall, the ground rushes up to meet his head. Lying just around the corner is the bloody and prone form of his big brother.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N – Not too sure about this next chapter, parts I like and parts I don't. I hope anyone reading enjoys it all the same. Reviews would be appreciated. Thanks :)

_Welch Residence, Jericho_

With a monumental effort Sam strains to open his eyes. His head is throbbing, and he's pretty sure when he reaches up he'll find blood slowly seeping down his face. _Urgh, why am I on the ground, _he wonders. _Oh God, Dean, _he remembers, bile rising up from his stomach.

Twisting his head far too quickly, causing black spots to appear in front of his eyes, he can see the bottom of his brother's boots lying close to where he fell.

"No, no, no! Dean!" Sam chokes, his throat aching and dry. Struggling against the dizzy, nauseous feeling, he climbs to his feet, swaying slightly.

This can't be right, Dean had been here just before he'd passed out, hope rises through him that this is just some cruel trick. Edging closer to the body, Sam feels his heart plummet. There's no mistaking that this is his brother, the same brother that cared for him for most of his life, who trained him, taught him and loved him unconditionally. Tears spring to Sam's eyes as he closes the last gap between him and Dean's unmoving body.

"Hi Sammy" a voice says behind Sam, causing him to whip his head around.

Standing less than five feet away is Dean, with such an agonised expression, that the tears start streaming down Sam's face.

Sam tries to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a rasping cry. Dean takes a few steps closer, but before he can reach Sam his whole body flickers like a broken movie reel and he vanishes.

Staring at the spot his dead brother had been standing in, Sam breaks down completely. How could he have let this happen, Dean had always, ALWAYS, been there for him and he hadn't even been able to do the same. Looking down at the still body at his feet, Sam's eyes cloud over with emotion. Why couldn't he have gotten the damned vision sooner, how had this helped in any way, pain quickly turning to fury.

Bending down, he slowly places his hands under Dean's body. Lurching to his feet, struggling under the heavy weight of his brother, he starts walking towards the Impala. With some effort he manages to extract the car keys from Dean's pocket and places him gently across the back seat, trying with all his might to ignore how cold his brother feels. Even with the window smashed, making the Impala dangerous to drive, there is no way he can fit Dean's long frame into his rental.

Closing the door, he leans back on the sleek black car. Rubbing at his face, Sam tries to bring his thoughts in order. The rage pouring through his mind and body frightens him, but it's more useful right now than the underlying grief that keeps threatening to rise to the surface.

Looking up and seeing the house, brings Sam back to why he's here; Constance Welch. The fucking bitch who'd murdered his brother. Seeing red and physically shaking with anger, Sam moves to the trunk of the Impala and grabs some supplies, stuffing them into a duffle then slinging it over his shoulder, a plan already formulating in his mind.

Marching towards the property, Sam grabs the shot-gun from the ground and without stopping, reloads some salt rounds from his pocket. Once he reaches the door, he kicks it down with one powerful motion sending rotten wooden splinters in every direction. His sense of caution is gone, as he takes a jerry can from the bag and begins spreading gasoline all around the house. Moving through the rooms, it becomes apparent that Dean was in the midst of finishing this job as Sam finds a shovel leaning up against the back door and fresh mud caked on the floor. Opening the backdoor Sam walks out making sure to continue a trail of gasoline, finally spotting three shallow graves. From reading the article earlier that day and knowing that Women in White are usually a result of familicide, he's not surprised that there a three graves instead of one, he feels a new wave of revulsion course through him. Taking a second can from the bag his pours more gas into each grave and cracking open some of the leftover rounds from his pocket he adds salt too.

Noticing movement Sam looks up and sees Constance standing a short distance away, without hesitation he aims the shot-gun and fires, causing her to vanish once again. Moving quickly now, he re-enters the house and finishes emptying the gasoline. Reaching again into the bag; he pulls out a book of matches. Once clear of the house he strikes the matches and sends them flying through the door, immediately igniting the accelerant.

After a while the heat and intensity increases, and as the fire starts to climb higher Constance reappears before Sam. Storming towards him, the anger on her face is insignificant in comparison to how he is feeling and he won't ever deny the satisfaction he gets when she suddenly bursts into flames, trailing embers around him that slowly fade away into nothing.

After placing the shot-gun and duffle back in the trunk, he stands there for what feels like hours. Sam watches the house reduce to nothing but smouldering piles of ash, not caring if the flames have attracted the attention of the local authorities. He knows what he should be doing next, he knows it's what Dean would want, but he can't bring himself to give his brother the hunter's burial he deserves.

Walking around to the driver's side Sam climbs into the Impala, refusing to look at the back seat, instead angling his long legs and smashing his boots through the windshield, clearing the broken glass so he can see the road ahead.

Starting the engine, Sam steers the car down the driveway and back onto Centennial Highway. He drives slowly back to town, not wanting to attract the attention of any local cops because of the windshield. Not only is he covered in blood and ash, he doesn't think they'd be too impressed with the body in the back.

Arriving back at the motel, once parked, Sam rests his head against the steering wheel and tries unsuccessfully to reign in his emotions. Sobbing, he leans back and starts slamming his hands into the wheel.

"HEY" a rough voice starts, scaring Sam from his aggressive attack; he looks over and sees Dean sitting in the passenger seat.

"Baby didn't do anything to you"

"Dean!" Sam croaks out, his voice hoarse from the ash.

"Hey, little brother" Dean replies, a sad smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Sam reaches out to touch his brother, but his hand passes straight through Dean, causing his form to flicker. Pulling his hand back quickly, he finally looks over his shoulder and can see that Dean's body is still draped across the backseat.

"I'm sorry Sammy" Dean say's gently, drawing Sam's attention back to the passenger seat.

Still trying to find his voice, Sam can only stare at his older brother.

"Come on Sam, say something, you're freaking me out"

Disbelief wins out and Sam manages to splutter "Dude, you're a ghost and **I'm **freaking you out"

"Well what can I say, I may be dead but I'm still awesome" Dean shoots back, with his trademark grin.

Sam's head is spinning as he tries to make sense of the situation, trying his best to ignore the painful pounding in his chest.

"What happened to you Dean?" Sam asks, fully aware of how strained his voice sounds.

Dean turns away at this question, looking ahead as if trying to figure this out himself.

"Honestly man, I don't know. I came to town following Dad, he's been missing for a few weeks now and this was the last place I knew he was definitely headed. When I got here, it was clear there was a case so I followed the leads, did my research and ended up at that house. I found the graves and was about to finish the job, but that bitch got the jump on me. I felt the most intense pain of my life and the next thing I know I'm just standing there, looking down at my own body. That was a day ago. I was going out of my mind, trying to figure out how to leave that godforsaken dump, but I couldn't go far" Dean finishes his speech with a furtive glance at the backseat.

Sam's been staring at Dean since he appeared and notices that Dean's form flickers more and more during the last few minutes, whether it's from emotion or expended energy he doesn't know.

"I've just been sort of wandering around the place since yesterday, trying to finish what I started, but I haven't been able to move anything, so I couldn't burn the bones. Besides that Constance bitch didn't have the time of day for me, I hadn't even seen her again till you showed up" Dean continues, his eyes flashing to Sam's.

"When I saw her, standing over you like that, I guess something just kinda snapped inside me. I felt this anger rising up, I saw the shot-gun on the floor and I **knew** that I could pick it up. I knew I couldn't let her hurt you" his older brother finishes, almost whispering the last sentence.

Feeling the anguish rolling off his brother in waves, Sam finally composes himself enough to talk.

"Dean, I am so sorry I didn't get here sooner. This is all my fault, if I hadn't left you and Dad, if I'd just stayed in contact with you, none of this would've happened. I can't…" Sam say's, having to stop when his voice break and tears start streaming again.

"I don't blame you for anything that has happened Sam. It's a freaking miracle that you found me at all" Dean states.

Sam can see from his brother's expression that he hadn't wondered until now how Sam had actually found him.

"How…" Dean starts, but whatever he was about to say ends abruptly as he yet again vanishes in front of Sam.

A fresh wave of anger and frustration surge through Sam, and after several long minutes of waiting to see if Dean will reappear, Sam decides that he'd best move his brother into the motel room before anyone sees him. Thankfully it's still the middle of the night so Sam manages to retrieve Dean and gently place him on the motel bed, without anyone noticing.

Walking back to the Impala, he searches the trunk and finds a large sheet or tarpaulin. Once he has the windshield covered, he leans back into the car to grab Dean's bag. His eyes settle on a book in the rear foot well. With a short intake of breath, he realises what he's seeing; Dads journal.

Grabbing the book, Sam feels the first flicker of hope spreading through him. If there was anything that could save his brother it was most likely to be documented on these pages.

Walking back into the room he glances over at his brother's body. _Don't worry Dean, this time I'll save you, _Sam thinks to himself as he closes the motel door.


	5. Chapter 5

Standing behind his little brother in their dad's motel room, Dean Winchester is freaking the hell out. It'd been a few hours since he managed to appear to Sam in the Impala and since then he hadn't been able to make Sam see him again. He can't decide what's worse; not being able to talk to Sam or the fact that his body is lying on the bed, just a few feet from where he now stands.

Looking over to the bed again, seeing himself, _Yeah, that wasn't getting any less weird, _Dean can't suppress the shudder that rolls through him.

"Come on, Sammy. You gotta hear me man" Dean say's anxiously, moving forward to wave his hands in front of his younger brothers face.

After talking with Sam in the Impala earlier, Dean had felt absolutely drained. Just manifesting in front of Sam and having the brief conversation had wiped out Deans reserves, but he'd slowly felt some energy creeping back through him.

Peering down at Sam, who is hunched over his laptop and their dad's journal at the small writing desk, Dean can see the worry and frustration that is etched into the younger man's features. He still doesn't know how Sam managed to find him in the first place, unless Dad had called him, but if that were the case then why hadn't Dad shown up to help him before the shit truly hit the fan.

He can't think of any other way Sam would've known how to find him, hoping Sam has some answers is just another reason he needs to get his crap together and try to get a handle on his visibility problems.

Sighing, Dean walks to stand in front of Sam. Closing his eyes and concentrating hadn't done jack so far, but considering he can't leave the room, he tries again. The last two times he had appeared had been a fluke, he'd wanted Sammy to see him but hadn't controlled it, so not knowing exactly what he is supposed to be doing is frustrating as Hell.

Concentrating all his thoughts and energy, Dean is praying to whoever will listen, that it works this time. Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he doesn't see Sam's shocked face when his older brother materialises from nothing, right in front of him. Dean does however hear a strangled gasp, and opens his eyes just in time to see Sam quickly jerk away and immediately topple back in the chair, hitting the floor with a thud.

"Ah shit, Sammy. Didn't mean to scare you" he says.

Without thinking he holds his arm out to help the younger man to his feet, Sam grabs onto the outstretched hand and as Dean begins to pull they both realise simultaneously that they can actually feel each other. When their eyes meet, the revelation causes Dean to break concentration and Sam hits the ground again with a grunt.

"Sorry Sam, still haven't quite got to grips with my situation. Heh, no pun intended" Dean say's grinning.

He quickly loses his smile when he realises that Sam is just staring at him, obviously in shock. He takes a few steps back to give his brother some space, Sam slowly gets to his feet, his blue-green eyes trained on Dean, clearly thinking that he might disappear again at any second.

"I felt you, Dean" Sam finally says, his voice shaking.

"I know, Sammy. I felt you too…and doesn't that just sound wrong!" Dean replies, smiling again, "Look, I don't know how long I can hold on this time, so back to business; How did you find me?"

Until this point, Sam hadn't taken his eyes off Dean, but now he was decidedly looking anywhere other than his big brother. Dean might not have seen Sam in a few years but he knew him better than anyone in the entire world, and with the way he was reacting to the simple question, he knew that his Dad hadn't called him.

"I, uh, I had a vision of you" Sam mumbles, quickly looking up to see Dean's response to this news.

"You had a what?!" Dean practically shouts, walking forward. Not noticing that Sam suddenly looks afraid or that there is condensation coming from his brother's mouth with every short breath.

"Dean, please calm down and I'll explain what I can" Sam say's, whilst slowly backing away.

Watching as his brother try to get away from him, scares Dean more than anything else that has happened to him in the last few days. Not even dying is more painful than the idea of Sam being frightened of him, as he finally notices Sam expression.

Dean walks to the other side of the room to give Sam more space and tries to control his voice before continuing.

"What do you mean, you had a vision?"

"I don't know, Dean. It came out of nowhere, I mean I've been having some pretty vivid dreams lately, but I was awake and it just hit me, literally knocked me on my ass. I saw you, here, in this town. I saw you on the bridge with Constance and I saw her attacking you. I didn't know if it was real or not, but I had this feeling something was really wrong and I had to find out for myself"

"So what, you have The Shining now?"

"I don't know what it was, but it didn't help, did it! I saw you, hurting, and tried everything I could to reach you in time, but I was still too late" Sam say's, tears in his eyes.

Dean can see the guilt on his brother face, and no matter how freaked out he is by what he's just learnt, he can't stand to see Sammy suffer for something that was out of his control.

"Ah Sam, come on, this wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have gone in alone on this one, I've been worried about Dad and I guess I wasn't thinking straight. It's my fault that this ended the way it did. I'm just glad that I got to see you one more time. I want you to know that I'm sorry that I haven't called in the last few years, I've had your number dialled so many times, but I just couldn't go through with it. That's my one regret, Sammy, but I want you to know that I am proud of you."

"Dean, please don't talk like that. You're not going anywhere, so don't start saying your goodbyes"

"What are you talking about?" Dean asks, but he knows as soon as the sentence is out that he's used his energy up and feels himself fade out of Sam's view.

_FUCK!_

"Dean!" Sam shouts, scanning the room.

"I know you're still here Dean, but don't worry, I'm going to fix this"

He can't do anything but watch as Sam grabs his coat and heads out the door. Replaying what his brother had just said about him 'not going anywhere' Dean walks over to the open laptop and the journal lying beside it.

His green eyes widen as he reads through the article Sam has left open on the screen. Fear and anger course through him as he thinks of the repercussions of what his younger brother is planning to do. Hearing the Impala roar to life outside, Dean scrambles for the front door, but his hand passes through the door handle.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

* * *

Pulling the Impala over, Sam runs through his plan again. Looking at the supplies he has gathered in the empty passenger seat he feels sure that he hasn't missed anything, reaching over he retrieves the items and steps out of the car. By some miracle he hadn't been pulled over for driving around without a windshield, the tarpaulin currently lying across the rear seats.

Walking forward to stand in the middle of the crossroads, Sam raises a hand to cover his eyes from the bright sun and checks to make sure that there isn't anyone else around, thankfully he can't see another person or vehicle along the long stretches.

Hunching down he places the items on the floor and opens a small square tin he'd found in the back of the Impala. After placing the spell ingredients inside, along with a photo of himself, he sets to work digging a shallow hole. Once enough gravel and soil has been displaced he lowers the tin into the hole and using his hands drags the loose dirt, covering the box completely.

Stepping back from the buried item, Sam immediately starts looking expectantly for the crossroads demon to appear.

"Hello there, Handsome. What can I do for you?" a sultry female voice say's behind him

Spinning around, Sam automatically reaches for the gun tucked into his waist band. Raising the firearm, he knows that it can't kill her, but it might be able to stop her long enough if this doesn't go the way he's hoping.

The woman standing in front of him could be considered beautiful by almost any standard; young, tall with pale milky skin, black hair and full red lips. The glowing red eyes were the only clue to the demonic presence residing inside the woman's body.

Not lowering his gun, he looks her dead in the eye and tries to show confidence in his voice that he doesn't feel.

"I'm here to make a deal".


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"I'm here to make a deal".

The demons eyes crawl over Sam and he has to stop himself from shaking with disgust, he can't let anything stop his chances of making a deal to save Dean.

"Well, well, well. Little Sammy Winchester wants to make a deal, huh?" What would Daddy have to say about this?"

Sam tries to stop the surprise he feels from showing on his face, he hadn't anticipated on her knowing who he is.

"Don't look so shocked Sammy, I know all about you and yours. Word travels fast downstairs, condolences about Dean. Too bad, so sad" the demon says, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Guessing that's why you're here too" she says

"Can you do it? Can you bring him back?" Sam asks his words clipped with barely concealed fury.

"Well now Sammy, that all depends"

"On what!" he growls.

"On you. See, normally I'd be offering you ten years before I came to collect, but I know what you Winchester boys are like and in all honestly I don't see you living that long. Plus I don't particularly want to spend the next decade cleaning up after you. So here's what I will offer you, one year. One long year in which you get to say your goodbyes and Dean can live happily ever after. Or as happy as he can get knowing baby brother is going to spend eternity in The Pit"

Sam feels like he's been punched in the gut….one year. One single year to say goodbye to all the people he loves and cares about. To tell Dean he's the best big brother anyone could ever ask for, to thank him for practically raising him and being his best friend. To Dad, to apologise for the way they left things and tell him he really does love him. To Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb…

To Jess. Oh god Jess.

The vision hits him like a ton of bricks, he loses grip of his gun and crashes to the ground. Images scorch through his mind, of Jess in their apartment, her in bed with a dark figure watching and finally, Jess pinned to the ceiling, just like their Mom so many years before, silently screaming as flames erupt around her.

Rolling on the ground, Sam can't do anything but hold onto his head and wait for the worst to pass. When the blinding agony begins to fade into a migraine, Sam manages to open his eyes, gasping in pain as the bright sunlight sends shooting pains through his head.

His thoughts are a tangled mess as he tries to determine what he just saw, and he begins to feel the fear and panic clawing his mind at the thought of anything happening to Jess.

A voice says something, but it sounds so far away that he can't understand what was said.

Unsteadily climbing to his feet, keeping his eyes narrowed he sees the demon slowly backing away from him.

"What?" Sam says groggily.

"I said what the hell are you!"

Sam focuses on her face and can see she looks terrified. Confusion laces his thoughts as to why she should look so scared of him but before he can ask she speaks again.

"To hell with this. This is above my pay grade. No deal, Sammy" and without giving him a chance to reply, vanishes from the crossroads leaving Sam alone, frightened and confused.

* * *

Dean is climbing the walls of the little motel room. Knowing Sam is out there, doing something stupid and dangerous, just to help him is driving him mad with worry. He's supposed to be the one to protect his brother, not the other way around. He's tried dozens of times to leave the room but with his body tying him to Earth he can't get further than the door. Whilst Sam has been gone he has been practicing moving objects around the room and is pleased with the success he's been experiencing, grimly thinking about the fun he could have with an unsuspecting motel maid.

The hours pass painfully slow and just as he's about to seriously contemplate attempting to drag his body out of the room he hears his cars unmistakable rumble pull up outside.

Dean scrambles for the window and looks out to see Sammy sitting in the driver's seat looking absolutely lost. More than that, he looks broken. Dean feels some of the anger that's been building dissipate, seeing his younger brother look so forlorn, he knows that the crossroads demon couldn't have made him a deal. Plus the fact that he's still Caspar's incredibly better looking cousin.

He watches as Sam clambers out of the car and start walking back to the room, his shoulders slumped with utter defeat. Concentrating his energy Dean wills himself back into Sam's plain of vision just as he younger brother walks through the door.

Dean wants to start yelling at his brother but from the dazed and pained expression on Sam's face he can't bring himself to.

"Sammy, man, what did you do?"

Dean feels panic rising through him as Sam walks forward without responding and sits heavily on the vacant bed.

"You're scaring me here. Come on please say something"

After Sam still doesn't respond Dean starts to wonder whether he had materialised or not, when suddenly the younger man's eyes sweep up to meet his. Sam's normal, soulful eyes are red rimmed and puffy and Dean knows instantly that something terrible has happened.

"Sam, answer me. What the hell did you do? I know you went to a crossroads so don't even think about fucking lying to me! What happened?" Dean asks, regretting how forcefully he spoke to his brother immediately.

Dean can see the effort it takes for Sam to compose himself long enough to utter a few short words.

"She's gone, Dean" tears falling from his eyes.

A disarray of thoughts whip through Deans mind but he knows there is only one woman that could affect his brother so much. Whilst he hasn't seen Sam since he left, finding it too painful to see his little brother enjoying life without him, his Dad had been to Stanford a few times over the last few years and Dean knows full well that Sam is living with his girlfriend, a cute blonde named Jessica. For one horrible moment Dean wonders if Sam made a deal for him that involved Jessica, but brushes it aside knowing his brother would never do that.

"If I'm going to help, I need more than that Sammy. Tell me everything"

Drawing in a shaky breath Sam begins to relay to Dean what happened since he left a few hours earlier. Dean listens wordlessly as Sam recounts his meeting with the demon. He feels the shock show on his face as Sam tells him about his latest visions involving Jessica. All the while Sam is talking Dean struggles to control is anger, knowing that he almost loses it a few times when he finds out the similarities between what happened to Jessica in Sam's vision and what happened to their Mom.

"And then the demon, she looked at me like she was…like she was scared, Dean. She actually asked me what I was and then she basically ran away."

"She ran away?" Dean asks incredulously, _well that's a new one_, he thinks. Even with this worrying information, he is beyond relieved that Sam didn't get chance to make a deal.

"What did you mean when you said, 'She's gone', cos I'm guessing you're not referring to the demon?"

"Jess is gone, Dean. I tried calling a dozen times since the crossroads demon vanished and she hasn't answered once. I couldn't save you when I got the first vision and now I've lost Jess too"

Feeling his anger finally spilling over, Dean rounds on his brother.

"Wait a fucking minute. You think she's gone just because she hasn't answered the phone? Hell, she's probably in class Sammy!"

"You don't get it Dean, I saw you dying and that's exactly what happened, so if she isn't answering then it's obviously happened to her too!"

"For someone who is supposed to be so smart, you are a fucking moron sometimes. Now listen to me, for all we know Jess is absolutely fine, but we won't know for sure until we go and find out. We can't drive all the way to Palo Alto with a busted windshield, so why don't you go and try to get that fixed whilst I take care of some things here"

For the first time since Sam had got back, Dean could see some hope in his brothers' eyes and he was praying with all he had that it wouldn't be crushed again as soon as they reached California.

"Dean…I…thank you. I was just so scared when she didn't answer and after all that happened to you, I couldn't help but think the worst" Sam says, his voice already sounding steadier.

"I get it Sammy, don't worry, but we gotta move now. I think I've got the energy to pack everything in here up, but try not to take too long"

Dean can tell from the way Sam is looking at him that he's trying to work something out and when his eyes flash over to the other bed where his body is lying he knows what he's thinking.

"Umm, Dean. How are you going to come to Palo Alto with me? I mean even once the Impala is fixed there is no way we can take your, uh, uh…you with us in the car"

"I'll figure something out Sam, just go get my car fixed so we can get the hell out of here. I'm really getting sick of these walls, man"

* * *

After Sam leaves to find the nearest garage Dean focuses on stuffing all his dads crap into the duffle bags he has stored under the bed. It doesn't take long to clear the room and after a final sweep he turns his attention to the occupied bed.

Dean thinks of every salt and burn they have ever been on and finally feels a small measure of relief when he recalls the times that the spirits have been tethered to an item rather than their bodies. Finding the resolve to do what needs to be done takes a few minutes, but he gathers the strength to walk over to his still and lifeless body.

Whilst looking at himself is by far the strangest experience he's ever encountered, when he reaches down to tug up the hems of his jeans he feels physically faint. After recovering the knife from his boots Dean leans over and gingerly removes his amulet from around his neck, ignoring how cold and stiff his body is.

Taking a deep breath he slices the blade over the exposed skin on his forearm, taking the necklace he gently rubs the charm across the wound ensuring that a small amount of blood is smeared on the brass idol.

_I hope this fucking works_, he thinks clenching the amulet tightly in his fist, walking eagerly towards the door.

Turning the handle he draws a breath and then takes a step forward, releasing a small cry of victory and a lot of pent up frustration when he realises he's actually standing outside.

* * *

It takes a few hours for Sam to get back with the Impala and as soon as the car is parked Dean makes his way over to inspect his baby. Staying invisible he runs his eyes over the windshield with practiced eyes, pleased that the local mechanic has done an acceptable job. As Sam climbs out of the car, Dean stands as close as he can to his brother and after checking that no one else is around, lets himself become visible, enjoying the strangled yelp the younger man emits.

"Dean! You scared the crap outta me!" Sam gripes.

"Sorry Sammy, couldn't help myself" he replies grinning.

"Dude, your outside" Sam says finally noticing the fact Dean is no longer in the motel room.

"Told you I'd figure it out"

Taking the bloodied amulet from his pocket, Dean holds it up to show Sam, seeing understanding spread across his face.

"I cleared the room, but we have to figure out what to do with my body. We could bury me for now, until you have the chance to come back and send me off to the great unknown"

"I'm not going to salt and burn you, Dean. I'm still going to figure out a way to save you."

"You gotta be realistic, Sam. I will not allow you to sell your soul for me and I can't stay here for ever. I'm not going anywhere until we know Jess is safe but we have to talk about this again at some point"

"Yeah, alright"

"I mean it, Sammy"

"I said alright!"

Not entirely convinced Dean decides to drop the issue for now and concentrate on the task on hand. Glancing around he's relieved to see the parking lot is still empty and knowing that Sam will follow heads back into the room.

A few hours later Sam is behind the wheel of the Impala and Dean is sitting in the passenger seat, looking longingly at the steering wheel. Dean's eyes wander over his brother taking in his tired appearance and his dirt caked clothes. Having just buried himself in the local cemetery, albeit slightly off the beaten path, was not something that he has ever expected to do, but at least his body would be safe whilst they went to California to ensure Jessica was alive.

He's still concerned about Sam's refusal to acknowledge what needs to be done in the coming days, but has to admit to himself that he's glad to be back on the road with his brother and not shuffling completely off the mortal coil.

As Sam puts his foot down on the gas, Dean can't help but wonder exactly what they'll find when they reach Palo Alto, sending up a silent prayer that they reach Jess in time.

* * *

Please review - would love to hear whether anyone is enjoying this story. Constructive criticism is always welcome :)


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